


夕日

by haru_senji



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Heavy Angst, Light Angst, M/M, this is fluff to angst, you heard of angst to fluff?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:35:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27173206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haru_senji/pseuds/haru_senji
Summary: miya atsumu was the sun itself, and when he left, he took all the warmth with him.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Reader, Miya Atsumu/Reader
Kudos: 25





	夕日

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to only crosspost the works I'm more proud of here 🙈

miya atsumu was the sun, the beginning and the end; you were the sky, adorned with wisps of fluttery clouds shaped like feelings, and in the centre of it all, him. 

he seared red, burning himself into your mind’s eyes. his narrowed eyes, his dagger-sharp gaze; his crimson lips, his fierce smile; they all carved themselves into your subconscious until all you could think of was him, him, him. your eyes opened to your reflection in his brown ones, they closed to the lingering vermillion fire of his grin, etched into your soul. 

he glowed orange, his silhouette making a name for itself on the volleyball court. all the pretty flowers vying for his attention, yet you knew that you were his middlemist red, the precious opal he held carefully in his palms. because as soon as he won a match, his eyes would travel to yours, the way flowers always face the sun, the way compasses always faced north. his eyes would lock on yours, and it was like the world had stopped spinning for the two of you.

he shone yellow; you dyeing his stupid hair the colour of his stupid smile. piss-blonde they say. happiness, you like to call it. golden, like the afternoon light that danced in through the window, yet it seemed dim compared to the lovestruck smiles you tucked in each others’ pockets. yellow, like the marigolds he’d plucked for you, the petals burning, scorching with your passion for each other. the amber specks in his eyes slightly visible under the sunlight, and brown suddenly seemed like the most special colour in the world. 

the rays from his light tinged the sky on your cheeks pink. when his fingers ghosted your frame, like gasoline that ignited as soon as his lips met yours. when he held your hand in the special way he did, weathered hands cupping your tiny ones, little finger playing with yours. when, even though you protested, he looked at you like you were his everything. like a painter with his pride and joy, like a musician who had stumbled across his muse. like you were the only one beneath the vast sky. 

he dressed your clouds in purple. everyone complimented your dress the night of the ball he’d dragged you to because he ‘didn’t want ta be alone with a bunch of fancy people’. the cameras blinded you temporarily as they snapped away, but your surroundings blurred as soon as you glimpsed his face. he was just like that; nothing else mattered next to him. oh, you were in love, in a love so, so deep, amongst a flurry of mauve eyeshadow and tyrian robes because that was what it felt to be in love with him. like royalty. like he was yours, and yours only, and the two of you would give up kingdoms and souls for the other. the ballroom shone liseran as he leaned into your ear, promising a wedding in your favourite colour. 

he paints your heart dark blue, the bitterness and anguish he planted lingering like the echoes of caws after the crows had long vanished. dark blue like the colours the sky fades into at sunset, like his love for you sputtering out. his fire goes out, his compass doesn’t turn to you; the marigolds wilt, the painter tears his art piece. the passionate red and orange and yellow and the wild, wild fire bleeds into cold, cold blue. 

you stand under the corridor lights, but his eyes do not reflect the fluorescent lamp. your heart fractures at his knitted brows. he never, ever, showed you an angry face. your hand clings to his, trying to hold on to what little embers remain of his feelings. “where are you going?” you choke out, feeling your chest splitting a little more. “i don’t love you anymore,” he says as he wrenches his hand out of yours. he drops your heart, and it shatters into a million pieces, each a shade of the sunset. when you lie on your side in the empty bed as the sky, your heart, your everything fades to black, tears blurring the neon lights, you are reminded. the tokyo skyline is blinding, but atsumu even more. 

miya atsumu was the sun itself, and when he left, he took all the warmth with him.

**Author's Note:**

> I made an analysis for the Easter eggs I hid in this piece! Read it [here](https://haru-senji.tumblr.com/post/632773729898938368/%E5%A4%95%E6%97%A5-a-deeper-insight-due-to-popular-demand/)  
> Find me on Tumblr [@haru-senji](https://haru-senji.tumblr.com/)!


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